


Fish Out of Water

by viksherenqueer



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Pale Porn, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 11:06:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2386109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viksherenqueer/pseuds/viksherenqueer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After sweeps of not having a moirail, Meenah isn't always sure how to convey the things she needs. Especially when she has a neglected fin just a little out of reach, and only one person she trusts enough to reach it for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fish Out of Water

**Author's Note:**

  * For [krazieLeylines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/krazieLeylines/gifts).



> who doesnt like softcore pale porn between two badass ladies?? haha this is actually a birthday present to my super LAME best friend loree so here loree take this monstrosity that hasnt been properly proofread so theres bound to be errors everywhere

Your prior knowledge of seadwellers was, well, as much as you _hated_ to admit it, lacking. Severely lacking. Despite all those hours spent battling it out with the purple pirate boy wonder and his laser pointer of doom, all the knowledge you had gained about him was which gills hurt the worst when you smacked at them repeatedly. That provided absolutely zero assistance to your current situation.

“Serket, it ain’t like I’m whippin’ out a line you can’t bite.” Your moirail starts, collapsing back onto the large pile of money and eight balls that was located in the block the two of you shared aboard this ship. “Just ain’t my numba one priority is all and I’d like it if you could ride my bass a lil’ boat the issue.” 

“Only if you _pay_ me,” you tease lightly, before slowly waltzing your way over and plopping down on top of her. She lets out a soft “oof” and grips at your sides to relieve some of the weight momentarily, before relaxing under you. Her arms tighten around the place under your milk sacs and you can’t help but feel your prior anxiety melt away. “I’m not one of the queen’s royal guards, bowing at her feet and prostrating themselves under your almighty glory or _whatever_.” 

“Oh stop fuckin’ flounderin’ your sorry beachy flaps,” she groans against your ear and rolls the two of you over, forcing your face into a mess of boondollars. You manage to turn your head, sucking in a deep breath.

“Despite the fact that you always claim that you’d love to drown in money, I’d like to point out two important details.” You start, your voice shrill and judgemental. “One, you are physically in-fucking-capable of drowning! And two, this sucks. Don’t shove my face into your smelly currency and expect it to get me all soft and bothered. It is _not_ working.”

You feel her teeth graze against your neck, digging her knee into the pile and using it to maneuver her weight so she was pressing down on you a little harder. “Is that a mothaglubbin’ fact? Whale, whale, whale, _princess_. I’m tryin’ to convey a serious point but buoy, you wanna keep on carpin’!” She whines ontop of you, sitting up to straddle your backside and yanking your arms behind your back. 

“Meenah, what the _hell_?” You whine loudly as your arms are twisted, and folded against your back, locked between her tyrian grip. Sometimes you hated the fact that her blood color left her with quite a bit more bodily strength than you. 

“I want yous to listen to me,” she said sternly, hands holding your arms in place as she leaned down, her front pressing against your back. Her weight distributed itself on top of you, wiggling in annoyance as she brought her mouth to your ear. “Just clam down, Serky. Ain’t gonna waste much of your precious time glubbin’.”

“ _Fine_ ,” you whine but relax under her grip. As annoying as it was, the way she overpowered you was almost attractive. /Almost/. “I guess if I have to listen to more of your stupid fishy babble if it’ll shut you up.”

“Bet your ass it will,” Meenah replied with a smirk, settling atop you and resting her chin against your shoulder. “Anywaves, I was gettin’ on aboat the fact that I ain’t submerged in water a lot anymore. Sand when I ain’t in soakin’ for long periods of time, my fins and gills and stuff start to dry up. Hurts like a beach and just gettin’ back in the water don’t fix it.”

“So what am _I_ supposed to do?” You inquire, brows arching. Your tone was a little patronizing, but the idea of your moirail’s sensitive fins in pain really pricked at a part of you. You didn’t like the idea of her hurting. “Follow you around with a little spritz bottle and just keep spraying you every five minutes?”

“Well shit sista, that damn straight wouldn’t hurt a gill.” Meenah smirked, running the tip of her nub along your jugular. You could hear the air rushing in and out of her with each breath, and you only continued to wiggle in vain. “But nah, that ain’t what I’m askin’. What I reely was wonderin’ is if you were down with maybe helpin’ me keep ‘em moisturized is all.”

“Like, with lotion?” You arch a brow, sighing and finally relaxing underneath your moirail. Her weight wasn’t too bad, and it wasn’t inhibiting your ability to breathe. “So you’ve pinned me down in the most uncomfortable pile _ever_ just to fucking ask me to smear lotion all over your fishy bits????????”

Meenah scoffed loudly, finally releasing your arms and propping herself up on her knees. Once the feeling returned to your limbs, you managed to slowly wriggle around until you were on your back, facing her. “I can’t reach most of ‘em, a’ight. They’re a royal pain in the bass to clean and upkeep and hell, my dorsal fin is probs a mess.”

“Let me see,” you finally say, sitting up and groping at her crop top, yanking at the fabric impatiently. “Come oooooooon.” You whine, pursing your lips as she reluctantly stripped the top off. “Bra too. It’s in the way.” She flashes you a look, but wiggles her way out of her pink sports bra, baring herself to you. Sliding to the floor around the pile, she turned around and slid into a sitting position. You follow suit behind her, touching her shoulder blades ever so softly and looking the fin over. She was right about it not looking too hot. The fins on either side of Meenah’s heads were large and bright, wiggling often and adorned with beautiful jewelry. Her dorsal fin moved much slower, and was in need for a good cleaning. Meenah was right about it being dry as well. You ran your fingers softly over the oddly fleshy, peeling skin and the pterygiophore. Sighing softly, you just nod and slowly get to your feet. “Ditch them.”

“What?”

“All your clothes, obviously.” You duck into the ablution chamber to hunt down whatever weird fishy lotion your moirail smeared all over your fins to keep them looking ‘hella swag’ or something along those lines. You thread through her mess of hair care products on the counter until you come across a tall, pink tube with a cartoon fin on the front. Reading over the description lightly, you sigh and glance out of the open doorway. Meenah stood now, stripping off her jewelry into a pile on top of her clothing. “Come here,” you instruct softly, most of the hardness in your tone gone now. Despite the obviously mask the two of you conceal yourselves under the vast majority of the time, you were worried and she was in pain. 

Within moments she was standing in the chamber, hissing at the cold tiles under her toes and you grip her shoulders, leading her into a sitting position on the edge of the tub, feet inside the actual trap. “This is the right stuff?” You hold the tube out in her view, and she shakes her head.

“That’s for after you clean ‘em. Turquoise bottle is the one you want. That and the lil’ pink cloth.” She answers softly and you set down the pink tube, turning to hunt around for the proper supplies. Once they were obtained, you straddled the edge of the tub yourself and turned her sideways, pouring a copious amount onto your palm and slowly working it into the flesh and bones of the dorsal fin. Meenah stiffened at first, closing her eyes and you felt a little bad. You were trying to be gentle, but the skin was quite dry and even peeling in some plates. You sigh softly, turning the shower knob and getting a palm full of water. You coaxed Meenah into the actual tub, slowly pouring the water in handfuls over the fin. Retrieving the little pink cloth she had mentioned, you began wiping along the edges where the fin connected with her spine. She vocally hissed at this, and without thinking you reached a hand up and papped her quickly with a soft “shoosh.”

“I’m trying.” You state softly, sliding the cloth along the under part of the fin and up the other side. “It’s really dry. Like, desert sand dry. You should’ve said something sooner.”

“Don’t go patronizin’ a gill like that, Serky-jerky.” She reached back, pinching the skin of your knee and you roll your white eyes. “We’s both pretty damn news to this moireelin’ thing so just bear with me.” She sighs again, and you finally lean in to kiss the rounded tip nof a horn.

“How about I bitch and moan all I want and you listen to me?” You retort, flashing a wide, toothy smirk. She clucked her tongue unhappily, but shut up after that. You go back to gently rubbing soap into the peeling areas, hoping to get rid of any extra dead skin while you had the chance. Her fin jerks unhappily, and she keeps wiggling in her seat. “I’m sorry,” you finally admit. The words are rare, coming from you. 

“Ain’t yo fault.” She admits softly, readjusting in her spot and giving a long sigh. "Just tell me you're almost done." 

"Yeah, I think I got all the gross stuff and dry parts." You muse, rinsing your fingers under the faucet and cupping them. Slowly you dumped handful after handful of water over the dorsal fin, watching as the suds ran down Meenah's back and to the drain. "Wanna dry off and move to the bed?" 

"Yeah," she nods, standing up. You retrieve a towel from the rack on the wall and begin helping your moirail dry off. Normally she'd deny your help, but she didn't even argue this time around. Once she is relatively dry, she cocoons herself in the terrycloth and heads out to the bed. You ditch your pants, mostly because the cloth around your ankles got wet in the bathing process. Finding the pink tube from the edge of the trap, you follow your moirail out and climb overtop of her on the bed.

"Cold," she says simply, glancing up with bright eyes. You nod, leaning down to wrap your arms around her. You press your lips to hers, the skin of your legs sliding together as you hover over her. 

"Alright," you pull back and sit up on your knees. "Ditch the towel, Peixes. Roll over too."

"A'ight, but no fishy business while you're back there, got it?" She jokes, cracking a grin and rolling over. She wiggles around until the towel reveals her dorsal fin, and you reach down and give her ass a hard pinch. "Ey!" She hisses, but finally allows herself to relax. 

You pour some of the translucent liquid onto you fingers and grimace at the slimy texture. For your moirail, you remind yourself. With an purposely unhappy sigh, you slowly slide your fingers along the creases where the fin met flesh. The liquid seemed to be absorbed almost instantly, like a dramatic emphasis for how dry it really was. "You seariously should've said somefin sooner." The added fish puns were mostly there simply so Meenah didn't bite your head off for saying that again. 

"I know," was her reply this time. You feel a tad too smug, and lean in to kiss the backside of a facial fin. 

Your fingers slip along the thin bones of the fin, and you are constantly reminded of how fragile they really are. You feel like you could tear them right off her body if you really wanted to. The thin skin webbed between the vertebrae was slippery with the added moisturizer, and slowly but surely the dorsal fin was feeling more and more healthy. "We should probably do this again later today?" You offer, not quite sure how seadwellers fins work. 

"Yeah," her voice was shaking. Not an emotional shake, but more like she was forcing back a purr. That was _really_ hot. 

"Cat got your tongue?" Your own voice was mocking, and you lean in to nip playfully at her neck, nosing along her gills. Just little slots on either side of her neck, flushed fuchsia with little folds sputtering out between the flesh. They had a soft, spongey sort of texture. You finally push her onto her side, locking lips again. Each movement was slow, cold lips mashing together sweetly. Her teeth occasionally grazed your own, but you didn't mind too much. It was sloppy and a little messy, and she tastes like salt water and its a lot less gross than it used to be. 

She finally pulls back, face sliding into the area between your ear and shoulders. "Banks." 

"Banks?" You inquire, your fingers sliding up along her pale sides and over her grubscars. 

"Pun. Like, instead of thanks. River banks. Thanks."

"You are _soooooooo_ lame!" You whine, rolling your eyes and draping a leg over her hips. "Plus, you are like, totally going soft on me." Groaning loudly when her grip tightened a little, you settle down against the wet towel and focus on the way her fingers slide up and down your back. 

You'd like to think that your knowledge of seadwellers just went from severly lacking to only moderately lacking. A few books on the subject would definitely be beneficial, if you're being completely honest with yourself.

**Author's Note:**

> that was gay and also i coded the damn thing on my phone and it took ten years so loree better love me for this


End file.
